


The Sea's Treasure

by Slytherin_vikiss



Series: Antony and Lysandra through time [5]
Category: A Courtesan of Rome (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Death in general, F/M, Lots of it, Mobster fic, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Violence, also in special cases ill ad warning at the top of the chapter, cursing, lysa is a bit insane on this one, mentions of delicate substances, more warnings as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 11:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytherin_vikiss/pseuds/Slytherin_vikiss
Summary: Princess Lysandra of Galatea was known for throwing temper tantrums from time to time, and doing stupid things in the heat of the moment; like running away from her compromise to the king of Atlantis, regretting it, and getting lost in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.Who knows? Maybe she didn’t get lost. Maybe she was





	The Sea's Treasure

**Prologue:**

  
  


When did duty died? And, had it ever done so? Was it even possible to kill duty? Could she kill something she couldn't see? Either way, it had probably died long before that moment, it just hadn't mattered till then.

Lysandra wondered all this as she stood on an empty dirt road, grass on either side almost as far ask her eyes could see, a massive set of gates about a hundred meters in front of her.

The cameras couldn't catch her yet, which was good.

All her life, she was in a cage, getting glimpses of the outside while watching a more intricate cage approach, and now she had had a taste of freedom, and letting it go was scarier than she anticipated, and she had thought of going back into her cage,...right before she leapt, of course, back when she didn’t know what she was doing.

She took out the gun, made sure it was loaded, and counted the bullets.

All her life, the same promise was made to her, of a crown and a throne, but it only ever variated on the locations of such objects and the man she would have to follow. But Antony’s offer was different; the crown and the throne he offered were manners of speaking, but with him she could walk by his side like an equal. The offer had been too tempting to refuse, and she had knocked out duty for a time to get her little taste of freedom.

She switched the gun from one hand to the other, and dried the first one off the sweat on the fabric of her black pants.

Her hand was shaking, she noticed.

She thought of her parents for a moment, probably worried sick, thinking she might have been eaten by sharks or kidnapped by an enemy.

Her mother would be furious and her father disappointed if they knew she had ‘ruined herself’ with a criminal, but they would take her back.

She checked her boot for her knife.

They wouldn’t,  _ couldn’t  _ take her back if she went through with her mission.

What were her options? Right; go back to Galatea disgraced, having to stay within its walls for the rest of her life but free from her arranged marriage. She would be a failure to her people...she would be a failure either way, but if she went back they would know. Not that it should matter; they didn’t know her, and she didn’t know them. She was sold to Cassius for the sake of a city whose inhabitants she knew nothing off, and she was too selfish to pull through.

Her other option was to complete her mission and go back to Antony. Antony who loved her, who knew there was a dormant monster inside of her and still loved her, even if it was because his monster was scarier. Antony who offered her a place beside him, not behind. But to stay was to face her own monster, the one she was weary of, and to shot duty right between the eyes.

She imagined for just a second, spending the rest of her life sitting in a fancy chair with a fancy albeit heavy crown atop her head, completely in silence, watching as the decisions were made for her.

Maybe duty couldn’t die after all. Maybe it just shifted, its sense shifted.

Yes, maybe that was it. A shift, more than a kill. A kill was actually what she was about to do. Several.

Her hands weren’t shaking anymore, and when she took her first step forward, thunder broke through the sky.


End file.
